Inebriated Obfuscation
by Cheshire6845
Summary: The debriefings are over, the party has started, and everyone is wondering where is Captain Janeway? Written for a specific request.


Author's Notes: This was written as part of the VAMB Secret Santa exchange. My request was from KimJ. I didn't quite make it to NC-17 like the request asked for but I hope I managed the rest of the request. Thank you to my incomparable beta QS!

Disclaimer: I have no claims whatsoever to the characters represented here. I just enjoying letting them come out to play.

Inebriated Obfuscation by Cheshire

The long brass handles on the cherry oak finished doors were cold to the touch, and Chakotay's grasp left a quickly disappearing print as the heat from his hand ceded to the cool metal. The door opened easily, and a faint sound of bells announced his entrance. At first glance, there were very few occupants in the room, but then that was intentional. The high backed booths that ran along both sides of the bar were clearly meant to allow for the privacy of whoever was indulging at the time.

_The Ready Room_ was an aptly named pub catering to a clientele that was composed mostly of the higher ranking members of Starfleet society. As ships' ready rooms were used as places for captains to escape to while in space, so the bar sufficed for more than one captain (or admiral) to run to with head bowed and tail tucked between their legs while planet side.

Chakotay strode towards the bar, admiring the row upon row of smoky, half-filled bottles that lined the backlit shelves behind it. He had yet to see a single occupant in the room, and it had not escaped his attention that no one was making an effort to greet him. Straddling one of the extravagantly cushioned stools, Chakotay made himself at home, resting his elbows on the highly polished surface and contented himself to wait.

It didn't take more than a minute for a bored-looking waiter to appear and brusquely ask him for his drink order.

"No drink," Chakotay told him, desperately trying to maintain his good humor. This was the third bar he'd stepped into within the hour, and he was past caring about decorum. "I'm simply looking for someone."

"Well as you can tell, sir, there aren't too many customers here at the moment."

The insolence in the word 'sir' almost made Chakotay smile. He'd had Cardassians treat him with more respect than this whelp. "That's true, so it really shouldn't be too hard for you to tell me whether or not Captain Janeway is here."

"I don't know who you're talking about, sir."

Chakotay managed to affect a look of surprise at that. "Really? You've never heard of Captain Janeway?"

"No, sir."

The 'sir' was definitely becoming more and more defined each time it was spoken. Maybe he'd hit pay dirt this time. "Since you can't seem to help me, I'll just look around real quick and be on my way, then."

"Our clientele prefer not to be bothered. I'll have to ask you to leave."

The kid was showing some gumption now as he gave up his pretense of toweling off a glass bearing the _Ready Room _logo.

Chakotay turned back to him, swallowing his bitter amusement. "On what grounds would you have me leave?"

"We don't allow loitering."

He noticed the 'sir' had now been dropped altogether. "Don't worry, I wouldn't want to be caught _loitering_ for long. Soon as I find Captain Janeway, we'll be on our way."

"And I've already told you, she isn't here."

Chakotay smiled now. Every time he'd raised his voice even slightly, the bartender had automatically lowered his in an effort to keep the conversation quiet. The kid had also given himself away twice by glancing over his shoulder to the back corner, but now he'd verbally given himself up, and Chakotay seized on the rookie mistake. "_She_ isn't here? Then tell me this…" he paused, waiting for a name from the bartender.

"Henry," came the tart reply.

"Henry," the former Maquis repeated. "If you, as you told me earlier, don't know who Captain Janeway is, how did you know I was looking for a woman?"

Henry floundered in his answer, and Chakotay pushed onward. "Not to mention the fact that you would have to be completely ignorant of even the slightest bit of gossip passed in your establishment for the past two months to have never heard of Captain Janeway."  
"Just because I know who she is doesn't mean she's here," the bartender insisted, finding his voice once again.

Chakotay changed tactics and pointed at the shelf behind the Henry's head. "That's a fine selection of whiskeys you have there." Bewildered the man turned to where the commander indicated. "But it does seem like you're missing a bottle. I'd say you usually keep a bottle of Jameson tucked into that empty spot on the left."

Henry turned away from the bottles, but maintained his silence.

"You really shouldn't give her the entire bottle," Chakotay criticized, standing away from the stool, heading towards the back corner booth.

Giving up all pretense of ignorance, Henry returned to the mundane task of drying off glasses. "Have you ever tried refusing that woman?"

_

* * *

_

_*earlier*_

_It had been a long two months, but finally the dust was settling. The debriefings had come to an official close that morning, and by that afternoon the entire crew of Voyager had arrived at Kathryn Janeway's family house in Indiana to await her arrival. There had, of course, already been an official welcome home celebration, but at the time no one had really known their fate, so the revelry had been somewhat subdued. Now, with the final paperwork being handled today, the crew of Voyager was more than ready to have a proper celebration. They couldn't wait to see their beloved captain finally be able to put down the mantle she'd carried for so long and join them as one of the family. _

_The only problem was that the captain hadn't shown up. _

_At first, everyone guessed she was just working on some last minute details, so with her mother and sister happily hosting, the drinks had been poured and talk of the future had begun. After two hours passed with no sign of the Captain, people were really beginning to ask questions. Even Admiral Paris had arrived, and rumor had it he had an admiral's bar in his pocket that he'd been planning on presenting to Kathryn, but even he didn't know where she was._

_ Chakotay had immediately volunteered to go find her. Leaving the party in full swing, he'd made his way to her office in San Francisco in short order. Upon arriving, he'd used a code Owen had given him to open her office door unannounced only to find the room empty._

_There was a uniform jacket and boots lying haphazardly on and near the couch, but if it hadn't been for a few obvious Delta Quadrant knickknacks and a certain coffee mug on the desk, Chakotay wouldn't have even known it was her office. Granted she hadn't had much time to settle into it yet, but still, he'd expected more personal touches from her by now. _

_He sat down behind her desk to rummage through the scattered PADDs hoping to find some clue to her whereabouts when he caught the first scent of alcohol. That's when he gave the coffee mug more serious consideration. Picking it up, he almost smiled at the smudge of lipstick on the rim until the obvious smell of whiskey assaulted his senses. For a moment, he considered that Kathryn had started celebrating early. She'd certainly been happy to share a glass of wine in celebration with him on more than one occasion. But he'd only seen her drink liquor, or at least the replicator's synthehol version of it, on those occasions when she'd been in mourning. Those very rare occasions when she'd actually let him see how truly upset she felt. _

_Putting the mug back down on the desk, he picked up another PADD now feeling a deeper sense of urgency to find her. The PADD was still activated, but instead of scrawling information like he'd seen on the others, this one was scrolling through images. Chakotay leaned back in the chair as image after image went across the little screen. _

_Kes standing in hydroponics surrounded by her flowers. Tom leaning against his Camaro with his hair slicked back and wearing a leather jacket. A dozen crewmembers standing around the pool table with Kathryn holding the trophy for the annual competition. Joe Carrey and B'Elanna laughing and holding up their fists at each other in a talent show reenactment of Voyager's early years. The Doctor in his tuxedo singing an opera. Neelix with his chef's hat cocked haphazardly to one side. Harry holding a tennis racket next to a dubious looking Seven. Samantha cradling little Naomi in the blanket Kathryn had made for her. Tuvok at his promotion ceremony. _

_The images continued, but Chakotay thumbed off the PADD, replacing it on the desk. Now that he knew what frame of mind she was in, he knew exactly where to start looking for her. He was pretty sure she wouldn't have made it far. After all, when Kathryn Janeway decided what she wanted there was little that would stand in her way. _

* * *

The sound of glass chinking against glass greeted Chakotay's ears as he neared the back wall of the booth. He mentally braced himself and moved another step forward so that he could finally see the person he'd been searching for. Even now, when he could only see the back of her head as he stood over her shoulder, the auburn shoulder length hair would be a dead give away to him anywhere. After all, this was almost the same view he'd had of her for seven years: watching over her left shoulder.

As he watched, a somewhat steady hand was replacing the bottle of Jameson to its upright position on the table, leaving the glass tumbler with more of the amber liquid than the bottle. It was then he realized he should've been watching her more closely these past two months.

"Captain?"

Immediately, she held her hand up, cutting him off from saying anything else. "I have asked you repeatedly to not call me that."

Chakotay frowned at the command tone of her voice. Maybe she hadn't had as much to drink yet as he'd originally suspected.

"After all," she continued, breaking into his thoughts, "A ship-less captain is no captain at all, and my ship now belongs to the office of preservashions."

Or maybe she had as there was a definite slur to her speech that time.

Oblivious to his concerns, she continued, "I've lost my crew to the far breaches of the Alpha Quadrant."

Breaches? Did she mean beaches? Maybe reaches. Chakotay shook his head, trying to focus on what she was still saying.

"And I've lost my man to a woman half my age."

He felt frozen. What the hell did that mean? Surely, she didn't mean Mark.

"No, wait, change that," Kathryn chuckled darkly unmindful of his confusion, "to a woman half _his_ age."

She took another drink from the tumbler, and the sound of the glass setting down on the table brought Chakotay back to why he was here. Moving forward so he'd be in front of her, he tried again. "Kathryn."

"See, that wasn't sho diffi…" she craned her head up for the first time to look at him. Her hair fell back away from her face, and her red rimmed, blue eyes found his face. She frowned. "Oh. It's you."

Ignoring the distasteful curl of her lip, Chakotay slid into the booth opposite her, inwardly cringing as Kathryn downed the rest of the contents of the glass and then reached for the bottle, upending it into her glass. When only a few remaining drops pooled in the bottom of the tumbler, she put it back down. "Damn. One more thing I've lost."

"And you know what," she pointed a wavering finger in his general direction. "I don't lament losing a shingle one of them."

"Kathryn…" he tried again.

"Okay, maybe one of them, two at the most," she admitted. With one hand still clenched around her glass, her gaze absently followed the movement of her gesturing hand, watching as it eventually ended in a reach for the bottle again. Finding it still empty, she amended, "Make that three."

Chakotay waited for her to look back at him, but her attention seemed riveted on the empty bottle. He cleared his throat and her gaze slid back towards him. Her eyes narrowed. "But definitely not the man."

"Kathryn, who are you talking about?"

"Henry."

Chakotay frowned, feeling an automatic surge of dislike in his gut at anyone Kathryn would name, but he didn't even know anyone by that name. "Henry?"

"Of course, Henry. Henry!" She called out, startling Chakotay as she leaned precariously out of the booth, her voice echoing across the pub much louder than it had ever been on the bridge. "Where is he?"

Understanding perfectly well now what she wanted and remembering the upstart bartender, Chakotay slid back out of the booth, smoothly reaching Kathryn's side as she tumbled her way out of it. Spying the young man approaching, Chakotay raised his voice as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "Oh no, you don't. If Henry knows what's good for him, he won't be serving you anything more to drink. You've had enough."

The bartender rolled his eyes at the veiled threat but smartly retreated. Kathryn had regained her balance with the help of one hand hanging onto the table top.

"Commander, in case you've forgotten, I outrank you." She poked a finger into his chest. "And therefore, _you_ do not tell _me_ what to do. If anyone is going to tell me that I've had enough to drink, it's me. You got that?"

"Of course," he agreed as he steadily led her away from the table. And the bottle. "But you don't outrank me anymore."

She stopped in her tracks. "That's right, I made you captain two days ago."

He nodded, trying to get her feet moving again.

"Congratulashions!" she exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck, catching him off guard and causing him to stagger into the bar as her entire body collapsed against his. "That's great news! I'm so happy for you!" Releasing him just as quickly, she turned around to face the general direction of the other secluded patrons. "He's a captain!"

Chakotay recovered his feet in time to put a hand on her waist, steadying her as she proclaimed his promotion to people he wasn't even sure were there. "Kathryn, please."

"No, no, no. You should be proud, Chakotay." There were actual tears in her eyes as she thumped him with an open palm against his chest in a bizarre form of her usual gesture. "You can tell people what to do now, and they have to listen. You should try it out."

"I will, Kathryn, I promise, but for right now…"

"Come on, Chakotay, try it now. Look, Henry is right here. You can give him an order." Henry stood behind the bar looking as though he'd rather be blown out an air lock. Kathryn leaned over the bar in an attempt to whisper conspiratorially to the young man. "Henry, did you know he's a captain?"

"Yes, ma'am. I had heard that."

Chakotay almost felt like laughing. The insolent, irritating young man that had treated him as though he was targ dung was clearly one more person of the male persuasion that had fallen under the spell of Kathryn Janeway. His voice was courteous and clearly infatuated as he responded to her attention.

Kathryn frowned. "Don't call me ma'am."

Unfortunately for Henry, she also seemed to be fixated on only one thing at a time, and Henry's body language returned instantly to annoyed when she turned back to Chakotay. "See, he knows about your promoshion, and he's proud of you, too."

"I'm sure," Chakotay commented dryly. "Please, Kathryn, let's just get you home."

But Kathryn wasn't having it. She plopped down on the bar stool, digging in her heels. "Not until you give an order."

Chakotay sighed, hearing the stubbornness set into her tone. "Fine. If I give an order, can we then please leave?"

"Yes," she said happily, attempting to wink at Henry. She held up a hand. "But it has to be a nice order."

A nice order. To Henry? Not bloody likely.

Chakotay straightened his shoulders and clicked his heels together, feeling like a complete idiot. With a swift heel to toe turn, he stood squarely in front of Kathryn. "Captain Janeway, I hereby order you to get on your feet and accompany me," his mind raced. They couldn't go to her house yet, not with her in this condition. If he ordered her to his house, Henry and anyone else within earshot would definitely get the wrong impression. Finally he settled on, "I order you to accompany me out of the bar."

Kathryn burst into a fit of giggles and applause. Chakotay deflated, wondering why he had ever thought that would work. Ignoring the very amused look on Henry's face, he managed to get Kathryn back on her feet and out the front door before she stopped laughing.

* * *

Once Chakotay managed to get Kathryn out to the street, he'd decided the best place to go would be the temporary apartment that had been assigned to him. They were only a few blocks away, and then he could get a detox hypospray for her as well as decide whether or not she'd actually be able to make it to her own promotion. The only problem with implementing this course of action was the woman in question herself.

He'd entertained the brief notion that, once outside, the cold breeze off the bay would help sober her up, and truth be told, the cold air had certainly produced an effect in Kathryn. She'd immediately tried to turn around and go back into the bar.

Thirty minutes and quite a bit of coaxing later, they were finally standing outside his door. Kathryn, being Kathryn, had refused his help and even batted his hands away as they'd walked slowly down the sidewalk with her hugging the wall for support and him trying to ignore the looks they were receiving from passersby. He hadn't decided which was worse, the pitying, annoyed stares or the amused, understanding glances. Even now, as he tried to punch in his access code while simultaneously keeping her upright, she insisted she didn't need his help.

Finally the door slid open, and Kathryn tumbled inside, catching herself at the small dining bar. Between the damp fog that had descended on the city during their walk and the many bricks she'd slid past, her hair was a complete disheveled mess, one which she tried to push out of her face as she looked around the drab surroundings. "Where the hell are we?"

"These were my temporary quarters during the debriefings." Chakotay explained again even as he activated the comm. console, putting in a call to the Janeway residence.

She walked out of her shoes and into the small den area, never hearing him ask for the doctor over the open line. Kathryn surveyed the small quarters and made her way towards the non-descript gray couch, discarding her jacket onto the floor along the way. Slumping onto the harder-than-they-looked cushions, she couldn't help but voice her opinion of his living space. "This is depressing."

He chuckled and joined her in the living room. Phoebe had answered his comm. call and assured him that the doctor would send a detox hypo over immediately. "I guess being a captain, your place was a little bit nicer?"

"No, not really," she said quietly, declining the glass of water he offered but inhaling deeply as he reached across her to set the glass on the end table. She'd missed him the past two months. She'd missed that rich, spicy scent that was distinctly him. Only when it was gone had she noticed how much comfort she'd taken from knowing he was near.

Leaning back on the seat next to her, he caught the slight look of wonder on her face as she watched him. "What is it, Kathryn?"

"You're a captain."

He nodded, agreeably. They'd covered this topic several times since they'd left the bar. "Yes, I am. Thanks to you."

"No more pips between us."

"For now," he agreed, wondering if she knew she was about to be promoted if he could just get her home.

She smiled when she spoke. "_Now_ works for me."

All the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and other parts definitely took notice as well when the tone of her voice dropped an octave and her fingers flitted along the back of his hand. "Kathryn?"

She ignored his questioning tone and continued to trace his hand until her fingers were intertwined with his in a gesture they hadn't repeated since all those years ago on New Earth. Her gaze never wavered from their hands, but when she spoke, her voice made his heart hurt. "Does your promise still stand?"

"Of course, it does," he said and slowly raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. Swallowing hard, he gently extracted his hand from hers. "But not like this, Kathryn."

He was fully prepared for her to take his rejection badly. The rejection he never in his life imagined giving to the woman in front of him. As much as he still wanted whatever it was she was offering, and as her other hand had crept into his lap, he was pretty certain he knew what she was offering, now was not the time.

He wanted her. Always had. Ever since that first moment on the bridge. But he wanted all of her. Not a whiskey-soaked version that could claim drunkenness later. So given that after all this time he was rejecting her advance, he expected her renowned temper to rear its head. Or at the very least a stoic resolve to cross her features. When she simply smiled at him, he was more than a little wary.

Patting him on the thigh, she unfolded her legs from the couch and stood, staggering slightly until his hands steadied her. When she gave a throaty laugh and peeked at him over her shoulder, Chakotay quickly dropped his hands away from her hips, but she didn't move away from him. Having Kathryn's ass only inches away from his face was not helping his resolve. In an effort to curtail the ever-tightening sensation in his pants, Chakotay diverted his gaze to the floor, desperately searching for something to say to break the building silence.

Kathryn's blouse hitting him in the face took him by surprise. As the silky material slid down into his lap, and after what seemed an interminable moment of staring at the cloth now bunched in his hands, Chakotay shot to his feet to find Kathryn waiting. Her arms went around his neck as he stood, hauling her body up against his in one swift motion. "Kath-"

Seizing the opportunity of his stunned expression, she sealed her lips against his, cutting off any argument he might've been preparing to make. As she began a torturous exploration of his mouth, Chakotay's inner voice yelled at him that this wasn't right. That he needed to break contact before she did something that she would regret later, but his body had a different idea. Seven years of fevered dreams and cold showers had made it damn near impossible for his groin to not rejoice when Kathryn pressed her half- clothed body against his, flooding his senses with her tantalizing scent.

He tried to pull away from her questing lips and roaming hands, but no fantasy that he'd ever conjured could have prepared him for the actual feel of her smooth bare skin under his hands. The sensation of her muscles undulating under his touch was enough to wipe all rational thought from his mind. He wasn't aware of how or when she'd gotten his shirt open, but every good intention he'd had of pushing her away evaporated as her tongue circled his nipple, and her hands teased across his abdomen. Hissing in a breath through clenched teeth at the sensation, he could only watch helplessly as Kathryn's head moved down his chest, leaving a trail of hot kisses as she worked her way lower.

"Kathryn…please, wait," he managed to grit out even as he felt the waistband of his trousers tighten and relax before being pulled slowly down his hips. She nipped the inside of his thigh, silencing his plea and his hands, moving of their own accord, wrapped themselves into her hair as she knelt before him. Her hot breath teased him through his shorts as his pulsing erection strained against the last fabric between them. Her hands traced their way up his legs until they reached the waist band of his shorts. She snapped the elastic band once, eliciting a grunt and a jerk of his hips. Delicate fingers slid across his fevered skin, moving between the elastic and his heated flesh. His hands tightened their hold on her, giving in to sensation and urging her closer.

A cool gust of air blowing across the back of his bare thighs was the only warning he had. At first, he thought his over-stimulated brain was playing tricks on him, but then he heard Kathryn's strangled cry of surprise. Forcing his mind back into working order, he tore his gaze away from Kathryn's kneeling form and looked up. The reflection he saw in the glass doors could not have been more devastating.

"Chakotay, you did not answer, so I used my codes to open the door," Seven said as she strode into the apartment. The former Borg looked up from the instrument she was carrying and came to a stop, staring at the two people in front of her. "I was told you required assistance. Perhaps I was misinformed."

"Seven." Saying her name and only her name was absurd, but that was the only action Chakotay's mind seemed capable of at the moment as he processed what the scene in front of the former Borg looked like. His pants were down around his ankles, Kathryn was only half dressed, kneeling in front of him; it had to be akin to walking in on your parents having sex, because there was no mistaking what was taking place.

Or had been about to take place.

Seven seemed shaken at the unexpected situation she had just walked into. "You did call…"

"You _called_ her?" Kathryn was aghast, cutting off the rest of Seven's question before it could be posed. "And yet, you were going to let me…"

"Kathryn, it's not what you think." Chakotay tried to help her to her feet, but she pushed his hand away, using the couch instead.

Coming up with her shirt in hand, she pushed past him, attempting to redress herself. "I cannot believe you."

"Captain," Seven began, reaching out a hand to help with the uncooperative shirt sleeve.

Kathryn jerked back from the outstretched hand, falling against the bar, but managing to put her arms in their proper sleeves at the same time. Not bothering with the buttons, she pulled down on the shirt tail and addressed the blonde in front of her. "And no, Seven, apparently it was me who was misinformed."

Having finally gotten his pants up and fastened, Chakotay rushed forward, having heard the anguish in her voice. "Kathryn, let me explain."

Her hand was shaking as she held it up to him and she backed towards the door. "No, Chakotay, just…don't."

"There's a reason she's here," Chakotay pled, reaching his hand towards Seven for her to hand him the hypospray.

"The suggested dose is…"

"Just give it to me," he snapped, turning his gaze away from Kathryn and towards Seven. In that second of broken contact, Chakotay heard the telltale hiss of the door open.

There had been several times over the years when Chakotay had been afraid to look away from Kathryn for fear that she would leave him. Fear that the tenuous connection that held her to him and his world would be severed if he looked away. It had never happened.

Until now.

He heard the door open and knew Kathryn had fled the room. Glancing down at the instrument in his hand to check the dosage and contents, he followed her out into the hall, expecting to see the back of her head as she whipped around the corner. But he didn't. She was gone.

* * *

Unlike her sister, Phoebe Janeway had never been good at hiding her emotions. She was more like her mother in that regard. Expressing herself had always been her forte as well as her preference. So at times like these, when it was most important to conceal her emotions, she found it rather difficult, and that's why her mother had banished her to the kitchen.

Elsewhere in the house and spilling into the back yard, the Voyager party continued undiminished, even with its guest of honor still missing in action. Heat lamps, a barbeque grill, and an impromptu jazz session by the Doctor and a quartet led by Harry were doing a wonderful job of keeping the admirals present distracted from asking too many questions about Kathryn Janeway's whereabouts. It had been sheer luck that Phoebe had been closest to the comm. unit when Chakotay had called to say he'd found Kathryn. She'd assured him that the detox hypo he requested would be on its way shortly without explaining that she didn't know how she was going to get close enough to the doctor to explain what was needed.

Closing the comm. line, Phoebe had looked for the first of Kathryn's senior officers that she could find. Her sister had raved about all of them at one point or another, remarking that, with their help, the impossible had always been made possible. Phoebe felt comfortable in thinking this situation definitely qualified.

Spying Seven of Nine lingering at the edge of the crowd, Phoebe frowned. Based on personality alone, the former drone would not have been Phoebe's first choice for this type mission, but neither Tom nor B'Elanna was anywhere in sight, and Harry and the Doctor were busy entertaining the crowd. She would've even preferred Tuvok, but he was the one senior officer not present as he was still on Vulcan seeking medical treatment. Scanning the crowd once more, Seven was still the only person Phoebe was looking for and could find that was easily accessible, and Kathryn _had_ spoken highly of the abrupt blonde woman, so Phoebe had made her decision.

Upon hearing the explanation of the situation, Seven had also surveyed the crowd for her comrades before moving decisively into the house with Phoebe trailing behind her. Faster than Phoebe could understand, she'd manipulated the household replicator beyond standard lock-outs and produced the required hypospray, she'd then requested the coordinates specified by Chakotay. Giving them to her, Phoebe had felt confident that this whole situation would soon be resolved. Kathryn's officers would get her sobered up, she'd be brought home, she could get promoted, and then Phoebe could kill her for causing her this much distress. Breathing easily for the first time that evening, Phoebe had poured herself a glass of wine.

And then B'Elanna had appeared, asking what the latest news was.

Upon hearing that the captain was drunk and with Chakotay in his quarters, B'Elanna had been thrilled. Apparently, the majority of the crew had high hopes when it came to a possible relationship between Kathryn and the attractive first officer. Tom had joined the two women at that point and had also been eagerly optimistic that maybe now, with a little bit of alcoholic persuasion, the captain would drop her shields (among other things).

And then Phoebe had told them that Seven had left to deliver the detox hypospray.

B'Elanna's curse had startled Phoebe enough that she'd dropped her recently poured wine, shattering the glass on the floor, which in turn caused her mother to appear and herd them all into the kitchen before anyone else became nosy about their conversation. There were few people in the universe that could assess a situation as fast as Gretchen Janeway could. After being brought up to speed, she had shooed Tom and B'Elanna back out to the party before they were missed and ordered Phoebe to stay out of sight until she had herself under control again. At this point, there was little they could do but wait and see who showed up. Not knowing how much Kathryn had had to drink, Gretchen was willing to bet money that the blonde may never be seen again.

Phoebe, however, was a wreck. How was she supposed to know that Kathryn had loved her first officer for all these years but never acted on it? It had never crossed her mind that for seven years this was exactly the kind of opportunity Kathryn's entire crew had been waiting on.

Since her return, Kathryn's time had been more in demand than ever. None of the conversations shared between sisters had lasted long enough without interruption for Phoebe to get all the more intimate details of her sister's personal life, and an unacknowledged seven year love was not the kind of detail her sister was in the habit of casually mentioning. Not to mention Kathryn had evaded every direct question put to her regarding that particular aspect of the last several years. Not wanting to press the issue while her sister had been trying to handle so many other things, Phoebe had chosen to cut her sister some slack. She'd figured that eventually the dust would settle, Kathryn would take some much needed leave, and then she'd be able to ambush her. Now she realized what a mistake it had been to wait.

She paced the kitchen, thankful that all the food and drinks had been taken outside, leaving her blissfully alone with her sympathetic thoughts about seven years of celibacy. Hearing a thump by the front door, she tried to quickly arrange her face so that she could appear calm to whoever was about to intrude on her enforced solitude. She glanced around the kitchen, looking for something to use as an excuse for why she was hanging around by herself when she heard another thump by the door. Maybe the person had their hands full and couldn't properly turn the handle. Phoebe let her shoulders slump out of the happy position she'd tried to attain and reached out to open the door.

No one was there.

It wasn't until she stepped all the way out onto the porch to look around that she spotted the familial red hair. "Kathryn."

Finding her elder sister, seated on the porch swing, barefoot, and still clearly intoxicated was the last thing Phoebe had expected.

"Why's the damn door locked?" Kathryn groused, lurching to her feet.

"It wasn't locked," Phoebe said, hurrying forward to steady her.

"It's cold out here," Kathryn said, allowing her sister to guide her back towards the door. "What wasn't locked?"

"The door. Where's Chakotay?" Phoebe glanced around the porch and yard before dragging Kathryn inside.

She was fairly alarmed, having never seen her sister this intoxicated. Chakotay had told Phoebe that Kathryn had had too much to drink, but Phoebe hadn't really believed him. Kathryn had never let herself get out of control a day in her life. So perhaps she'd had a couple glasses of champagne or something and become a little inebriated, slightly more unsteady than befitted a Starfleet officer about to attend a promotion ceremony, but not this. Saying she'd simply had too much to drink was a kindness. Kathryn was smashed.

"With _her_." Kathryn grumbled, responding to the question concerning Chakotay's whereabouts. "And they have my shoes."

Stumbling into the kitchen, Phoebe was about to ask Kathryn who had her shoes when she spied Admiral Hayes through the window. If Phoebe remembered correctly, he was quite a stickler for Starfleet protocol. She was fairly certain he would not see the levity in Kathryn being drunk the night of her promotion to the admirality. Unfortunately, he was headed inside. "Shit. Come on, Kathryn, get up."

Pulling on her sister's arm, Phoebe managed to get Kathryn up and bundled into the small room adjacent to the kitchen just as she heard the back door open. The room they were hiding in had at some point in the past contained large machines that people used to clean their clothes, but as long as Phoebe could remember it had always been used as the catch-all room for sports equipment, snow boots, dogs in need of house training and the like. Tonight, it was being used as a coat room.

"Where did all these come from?" Kathryn asked, looking around at all the brightly colored parkas piled haphazardly in the room. "And why are we in here?"

Phoebe winced; Kathryn's voice was much louder than usual. Whether that was from the alcohol or the small confines of the room Phoebe couldn't be sure, but she knew it would be easily heard by anyone in the kitchen. She slapped her hand over her sister's mouth, hoping Admiral Hayes wasn't the type to linger.

"All of these jackets belong to your crew," Phoebe whispered. "They are all here, and we don't want them to know that you are, so please, please be quiet, okay?"

Receiving a nod of acceptance, Phoebe removed her hand. Kathryn leaned forward and whispered, "Why are they all here?"

Phoebe's eyes watered as Kathryn's breath hit her in the face. "Good God, Kathryn, what did you have to drink?" Seeing her sister's confused expression, Phoebe leaned back from her before attempting to explain. "All of your crew is here celebrating the end of the debriefings. They've been waiting for you to show up so Admiral Paris can promote you."

"I'm getting promoted!" Kathryn's voice went up in volume at the news.

"Ssshhhh…"

"Sorry."

"Why Jack, what are you doing, hanging around in the kitchen? Can I get you something?" Gretchen's voice came from the other side of the door and Phoebe looked down at the crack under the door to see shadows moving across the floor.

"I just came inside to warm up my coffee, Gretchen."

Phoebe cringed at how close to the door he seemed to be.

"Coffee," Kathryn moaned, leaning against Phoebe, prompting her to turn and clamp a hand over her mouth again.

The admiral was still talking to their mother. "It's quite a party you've thrown here."

"Well, they deserve it. Now, tell me all about that grandson of yours," Gretchen's voice was moving away, and Phoebe was barely able to hear the admiral's reply. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Kathryn giggled.

"Okay, Kathryn, what the hell?" she whispered furiously, removing her hand and noticing for the first time that Kathryn had her shirt on inside out and only two buttons done up. "Did you get dressed in the dark? And how did you get here?"

Glancing down at her shirt and not seeing anything wrong with it, Kathryn shrugged. "I beamed here."

"Directly to the front door?"

Kathryn dropped a small cylindrical device into Phoebe's hand. "Emergency transport."

"But where's Chakotay? And Seven?" Phoebe asked. Not to mention that detox hypo.

Sitting down on a pile of boxes, Kathryn snuggled her bare feet into a bright blue parka. "They're still together."

"Who's together?" B'Elanna asked, opening the door, giving Phoebe a heart attack. "Sorry, your mom sent me. She thought you might need some help."

"How did she…never mind." Phoebe shook her head and then gestured towards Kathryn. "I do need help. She's still drunk."

"Am not."

"Yes, you are."

"Why is she still drunk?"

"I don't know."

"I'm fine."

"No, you aren't."

"I'll get Tom."

"Hurry." Phoebe closed the door behind B'Elanna and prayed for a few more minutes of miracles.

Kathryn let out a big sigh and began playing with the buttons on her shirt. "You know what the worst part is?"

"The worst part about what?" Phoebe asked, slapping Kathryn's hands away and undoing the shirt buttons herself so she could turn the shirt right side out.

"I'll probably have to offishiate."

Phoebe was barely listening as she got the shirt back on her sister and began doing the buttons up correctly. She really was going to be sainted for this when all was said and done. "Officiate what?"

"The wedding."

Phoebe froze. "Whose wedding?"

"Chakotay and Seven are getting married."

Unfortunately, B'Elanna and Tom chose that moment to return. "What?!"

Completely oblivious to the half-Klingon's building fury, Kathryn merely nodded. "Yep, they're going to live happily ever after."

"Whoa, wait a minute." Tom wedged himself into the room. "Chakotay doesn't even like Seven."

"That's the least of his problems; I'm going to kill him."

Backing away from the growling Klingon that she didn't know very well, Phoebe tried to understand. "Wait, Kathryn, what makes you say that?"

"I told me."

On another night, that sentence might have surprised Phoebe; tonight, it was par for the course. Before she could beg that someone explain to her what her sister was talking about another very loud voice joined the conversation.

"There you are!"

Phoebe gasped as Owen Paris' head appeared over his son's shoulder in the still open doorway. Kathryn jumped up, her forward momentum launching her into Tom and B'Elanna, jostling the forgotten hypospray out of Tom's hand. "Owen!"

"We've been waiting for you, Katie," he said, grasping her hand and pulling her through the small door and into the kitchen. Having had more than a few drinks himself, Owen was not the best judge of sobriety at the moment. "We need to get you outside. We have a ceremony to perform."

"No-"

"Wait-"

"We can't-"

Tom, Phoebe, and B'Elanna spilled out of the small room and into the kitchen, all of them speaking at once.

Owen turned back to them, clearly confused. "Well, why not?"

"Um-"

"Ah-"

"Well-"

"She doesn't have any shoes on, Owen," Gretchen supplied, striding into the kitchen. "And I won't have my daughter getting frostbite. You go on out and round everybody up. We'll be out in a few minutes."

Admiral Paris glanced down at Kathryn's bare feet. "She won't get frostbite, Gretchen, those heat lamps…"

"Owen, I will not have my daughter promoted while she's barefoot."

He considered asking why she was barefoot in the first place, but the look on Gretchen's face made him reconsider. Discretion really was the better part of valor sometimes. Nodding his acquiescence, he left the kitchen.

Kathryn made to follow him until her mother grabbed her by the arm. "You stay put. Tom, where is that hypospray?"

"On it," Tom said, scrambling back into the washroom.

"I'm fine, Mother."

Gretchen huffed, ignoring her. "Phoebe, shoes. B'Elanna, help Tom."

"Found it," Tom called out, tugging the hypospray out from under the pile of jackets. "Damn, I think someone stepped on it. It's jammed."

"I don't need it anyway," Kathryn said. "I am not drunk."

Phoebe, B'Elanna, and Tom all froze as Gretchen slowly turned on her heel, eyeing her daughter. "All right. Put your feet together…"

"Mom…"

"Do not interrupt me, Kathryn Janeway. Now, put your feet together and stand at attention. If you can do that without falling over for one minute, I will let you leave this room."

Phoebe saw Kathryn's eyes narrow. She knew that look. Stubbornness was setting in. "Mother, I am a Starfleet captain…"

"Then you should know how to take orders," Gretchen cut her off, putting her hands on her hips. "Do it, or I'll make sure you _never_ see the rank of admiral."

Tom let out a low whistle. From most mothers, that would be an idle threat. Coming from Gretchen Janeway, it was all too real a possibility. Her jaw working, Kathryn relented and clicked her heels together. Gretchen arched an eyebrow, waiting.

The stand off was over in ten seconds as Kathryn leaned first to the left and then over corrected and fell over towards her right. B'Elanna reached out and kept her from falling down completely.

"B'Elanna," Kathryn whispered to her former engineer. "I think I'm drunk."

"Kahless, somebody get her a breath mint."

"Forget the mint, what are we going to do about the hypospray?"

"Use this one."

Everyone turned at the new voice to see Chakotay entering the kitchen with Seven of Nine right behind him.

* * *

"Oh good," Kathryn muttered, her head falling on B'Elanna's shoulder. "The happy couple is here."

"Couple?" Gretchen asked, now eyeing Chakotay with a decidedly less-than-affectionate look. "But I thought…"  
"So did we," Tom said, looking rather disappointed but accepting the offered hypospray and applying it to Kathryn's neck. He checked her pupils. "It'll take a few minutes longer than normal to work since she was drinking the real thing and not replicated stuff."

Keeping one supporting arm around her captain, B'Elanna growled, "At least now we know _why_ she was drinking."

Seven, accustomed to the engineer's temper and unmoved by it, stepped forward carrying Kathryn's discarded shoes. She was brought up short as Gretchen moved protectively between the blonde and her daughter. Faced with the elder Janeway's glare, which was remarkably more fearsome than her daughter's version, Seven felt enough self preservation instincts to meekly hand the shoes off to Phoebe and take a few precautionary steps back.

As soon as Kathryn had disappeared from outside his quarters, Chakotay had assumed she'd beamed somewhere, but it had taken him a few minutes to find out that Kathryn had special status for emergency beam outs since their return. It had then taken several more minutes to track down her corresponding transporter signature through the Starfleet system and find out where she'd gone. He and Seven had gotten to the nearest transport station as soon they'd been able and had come straight to the Janeway residence. He knew Kathryn had been unnaturally upset at Seven's arrival, but he'd blamed it on the alcohol and the precarious position they'd been caught in. Considering how private she was, he hadn't expected to find this many people angry at him for his lack of restraint, but he also didn't feel it was any of their business either.

"Why is everyone so upset?" Chakotay asked, very conscious of the glares and heated stares he was receiving.

"Like you don't already know," B'Elanna gritted out, ignoring his question.

Chakotay glanced at Seven, wondering if she understood why everyone was upset. Seven simply raised an eyebrow to his unspoken question. He was thoroughly confused. It wasn't as if Tom and B'Elanna hadn't been caught in plenty of compromising positions before, so he really didn't understand what they were so upset about. Choosing to take the direct route, he asked, "What are you talking about, B'Elanna?"

"What _exactly_ were you thinking, Chakotay?" Tom asked, then nodded at the blonde. "No offense, Seven."

"None taken."

"What was I _thinking_?"

"That's the problem, Tom, he wasn't thinking…at least not with anything above his waist."

"Torres!"

"Lieutenant, are you suggesting the commander's brain is located below his waist?"

"I'm _suggesting_, Seven, that _you_ have been located below his waist."

"Are you referring to copulation?"

"Seven and I haven't-"

"Kathryn knows about your relationship."

"My _relationship_?" Chakotay asked at Phoebe's quietly offered statement.

"With her," B'Elanna blurted out, pointing at the Borg. "And yes, Seven, I mean sex. You and Chakotay doing the bump and grind."

"How long has that been going on, anyway?" Tom asked.

"Nothing has been going on!"

"Do sexual activities committed with a holographic recreation of the commander count?"

"A holographic recreation of _me_?"

"Yes, I ran various scenarios involving multiple-"

"Enough." The crisp command cut through the burgeoning argument, silencing everyone. No one had noticed when the detox hypospray had finally taken effect but Kathryn Janeway, standing with one hand on her hip and one near her temple, was definitely back in command of her faculties. "Seven, I'm going to pretend I did not just hear you say that."

"I'm not," Tom quipped, earning an elbow in the ribs from B'Elanna.

"Kathryn?" Chakotay and Phoebe said at the same time their voices mirroring each other's concerns.

"I'm fine," she said, cutting them off, her voice sounding rougher than usual. Gretchen huffed, earning a glare from her daughter.

"Or at least, I will be," Kathryn amended. "Thanks to all of you. I appreciate everything you've done for me this evening." She swallowed tightly, and it did not escape anyone's notice that she kept her eyes downcast, studying the shoes that Phoebe had so recently put back on her feet. She straightened and clearing her throat added, "Unfortunately, this evening isn't over yet."

As if on cue, the music outside stopped and Admiral Paris' voice carried into the kitchen. "I'd like to thank all of you for coming tonight…"

"I think that's your cue, Captain," Tom commented.

Gretchen stepped in front of Kathryn. Straightening her daughter's collar and smoothing her hair down, she said, "It's been a long time since there's been an admiral in this house, and it's been a long night. Don't make me wait any longer."

"Yes, ma'am," Kathryn said quietly. The corner of her mouth quirked slightly, and she looked around at the group watching her. Giving a small shake of her head, she said, "Let's do it."

* * *

Kathryn leaned her elbows on the railing of the front porch. Her breath formed small clouds in the cold night air, and she watched as each one slowly dissipated in front of her. Her hands were quickly going numb and breathing in the frigid air was giving her a bit of a chill, but it also felt very cleansing at the same time. She stared up at the stars, watching another breath of air cover them and then slowly dissolve, allowing her to see them clearly once more. If only everything could be resolved so easily.

The detox hypo had erased the all the symptoms of her intoxication, and she'd been able to go out and stand in front of her family and friends to receive the rank bar that now set coldly against her collarbone. It had been an informal promotion since everyone had been out of uniform, and Owen had winked at her as he pinned the bar to the collar of her civilian shirt.

After that, it had been a whirlwind of congratulations. Her crew giving her hearty hugs while stodgy admirals from her father's time gave her declarations about how they'd always known she'd do it. The music had resumed, and the party had picked back up with more than a few couples making a dance floor out of the yard near the band. Phoebe had commandeered a bottle of wine, Mike Ayala, and was determined to pick up the mantle of 'drunkest Janeway'. Sisterly threats and promises had been exchanged, and Kathryn knew that before the week was out, Phoebe would corner her, demanding answers about tonight. Kathryn just didn't know yet what she would tell her.

The front door opened and closed, allowing a warm rush of air to caress her quickly freezing face. Footsteps walked across the porch towards her, and even if the air hadn't carried his scent, she would have known before he ever spoke who was approaching her. The one person she'd avoided for the past few hours and the one person she knew she wouldn't be able to continue avoiding. Feeling the heavy blanket that was usually over the back of the couch wrap around her shoulders, she couldn't help but smile. "How are the kids doing?"

Chakotay leaned on the rail next to her looking out over the snow covered yard illuminated brightly by the full moon. "Winding down finally, but the back yard is a muddy casualty."

"It'll be frozen over by morning and then new snow soon after that. If we're lucky, we won't have to deal with cleaning up until spring," she said before falling silent, both of them absorbed in their thoughts.

"So-"

"About-"

They both spoke at the same time and exchanged embarrassed smiles. Chakotay gestured for her to go ahead. "Rank does have its privileges, after all."

She fingered the bar at her neck. "I suppose it does."

He didn't miss the melancholy note in her voice, wondering if once again she would let rank become a factor in her feelings, but he waited patiently for her to continue.

"I wanted to…" she cleared her throat, forcing herself to turn towards him. "I wanted to apologize for my conduct earlier."

"Kathryn…"

"No, please, don't tell me it was acceptable." She tore her eyes away from her hands and found his face. "I was way over the line, and I'm sorry."

"What exactly are you apologizing for, Kathryn?"

She frowned. "Well, for…for everything. I do remember what happened tonight, and I know that I acted very…"

He waited to see what she would come up with, but when her voice trailed off, he ducked his head a little to catch her eye and let her see that he was still waiting. "You acted very…what, Kathryn?"

She made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat and pushed off from the railing, clutching at the blanket around her shoulders. "I wasn't myself tonight, okay?"

Nodding, he pretended to agree with her. "That's true, I suppose. It sure seemed like Ms Jameson 2378 had a lot to say in the bar, something about not regretting the loss of her crew and her ship."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"Oh, well then you must be referring to how long it took us to get home, and again, you are right, Kathryn. I've never known you to walk so slowly. Thirty minutes to walk three…"

"Stop it, Chakotay." Her voice cracked slightly with emotion. "I'm talking about what happened in your apartment, and you damn well know it."

He could see the unshed tears in her eyes even in the low light. "What is it that you think you did, Kathryn, that was so wrong?"

"I threw myself at you. Even when you said no, I didn't stop. Like everything else I've ever done in my life, I made a decision and said to hell with everything else." She wiped furiously at the few brave tears that escaped and rolled down her cheeks. "Damn the consequences and damn whoever might get hurt along the way."

"Kathryn, no one got hurt."

"Chakotay, I _know_ about you and Seven. And she was there. She saw us. She saw me." A sad laugh escaped her. "Some role model I turned out to be. First chance I get, I try to have an affair with the man she's dating."

"Seven and I _aren't_ dating," Chakotay stated, feeling slightly exasperated having already had this conversation several times tonight with Tom, B'Elanna, and Phoebe.

"What? But the Admiral said…"

"What admiral?" And then it dawned on him. "Oh, you mean your future self. She told you that Seven and I were together?"

Kathryn nodded. "Married, even."

"I wondered how that had gotten started," he mused, then looked back at her. "And you believed her?"

"Well, yes," she faltered, then added weakly, "she also told me about Tuvok's medical condition; at least that, I was able to verify."

"Verify," Chakotay sighed, shaking his head. "Why didn't you just ask me, Kathryn?"

"I didn't," she stopped, squeezing her eyes shut against the emotion. "I didn't want to know. Didn't want to believe it, but then I kept seeing you together. On the bridge. At the welcome home celebration. During breaks between debriefings."

He chuckled dryly, "I was only doing that for you."

"For me? What do you mean?"

"Kathryn, those Admirals had you wrapped up so tight when we got home I don't know how you had time to breathe, much less take care of everyone the way you did. You made sure all the Maquis were pardoned and the Equinox Five weren't imprisoned. You fought for the doctor to keep his emitter. You raged hell when they suggested Seven and Icheb were a danger to society. And while you were doing all that, the crew was trying to readjust to life here." He shrugged. "Several people, including Seven, were having a more difficult time of it for various reasons, and I was trying to help them myself instead of adding to the load you were already carrying."

"But she had the code to your apartment?"

"So did a lot of people. Gerron spent a lot of time on my couch until Dalby settled into a place and invited Gerron to stay with him."

"I didn't know."

"No one expected you to."

Kathryn was stunned. "Then, what was that about her and you and the holodeck…"

Chakotay held up his hands in surrender. "Let's please not go there tonight."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Please," he repeated, and she relented. "And to make things perfectly clear, I loved having Ms Jameson 2378 in my apartment, but I'd much rather have Kathryn Janeway in my bed." He laughed at the complete surprise on her face. "After all, she's been in my heart for the better part of a decade."

"But," she sputtered. "But, you pushed me away, Chakotay."

"You were loaded, Kathryn; I was trying not to take advantage of you," he grinned at her, showing off his dimples. "And if you care to remember, I didn't try_ that_ hard to hold you back." He moved towards her slowly and she could see the joking in his eyes was being replaced with something far more sensual. "In fact, I seem to recall wrapping my hands in your hair…kind of like this."

Kathryn inhaled deeply at his fingers running through her hair, grazing along her scalp. His face was so close now; her breath was mingling with his. A shudder ran the entire length of her body before she even felt his lips on hers. He wrapped one arm around her waist while his other hand remained entwined in her hair, not letting her escape the sweet pressure of his mouth. The heat that emanated from him made her forget the freezing air that swirled around them, and the blanket around her shoulders fell off to the side. She reached for him, but he was ahead of her. Tightening his hold on her, Chakotay crushed her body against his, trapping her hands between them even as he began moving them backwards.

Her back hit the side of the house, halting their momentum, but not Chakotay's pursuits. His hands seemed to be everywhere: touching her face, running through her hair, massaging her neck, stroking across her shoulder and down her side. Her hands were so cold; she fumbled trying to reach him, zippers eluding her and keeping her from touching him. His mouth continued to distract her as he nibbled on her lower lip before tracing a path along her jaw until his hot tongue found the sweet spot just behind her ear. She groaned in frustration as her hands continued to encounter his clothing; she _needed_ to touch him. This didn't seem to be a problem for him as his hands were already under her shirt, his thumbs tracing over the lace on the front of her bra, his touch eliciting tiny shudders. She felt his leg nudging her legs apart just as she grabbed a handful of his shirt tail, managing to get it pulled free from his pants. Kathryn reached the skin of his back at the same time his thigh ground upwards against her center. They both gasped at the contact; Kathryn hit the back of her head against the wall she was pressed up against hard enough to see stars.

"No, don't stop…" she groaned in disappointment as his hands left her, thinking he was worried she'd hurt herself. "Chakotay…what?"

He smiled to let her know everything was all right even as he reached down to her hands, dragging them out from under his shirt, wrapping his hands around hers. She marveled at the warmth of his and how they completely enveloped her own. Never saying a word, Chakotay brought their joined hands up to his mouth and blew warm air across them. She thought it was a very strange thing to do right when they'd been in the middle of something. He blew again onto her hands, and she felt a stinging prickly sensation as blood began to return to her numbed fingers. She laughed then as she realized what he was telling her. "Cold hands?"

He nodded, his eyes still sparkling mischievously. Catching his mouth with hers, she gave him a quick kiss, and then, extracting her hands, she pushed against his chest. "My room is the second door on the right at the top of the stairs. I will meet you there in fifteen minutes."

"Why fifteen minutes?" He leaned forward, with one hand bracing against the wall on either side of her.

"Because…unh." She lost all train of thought when he dipped his head and his mouth rained hot kisses down her neck. Reflexively, she lifted her chin, giving him better access, and she was rewarded with his teeth nipping at her skin. Only the sound of laughter from inside the house brought her back to her senses, and she pushed against him again, gaining the precious space she needed to think.

"Fifteen minutes, I need to tell people good-bye," she explained, fumbling in her steps away from him and towards the door. Staring at him standing there, watching her, she reached blindly for the handle and missed it. Tearing her eyes away from him, she was able to get the door open and stumble inside. Muttering loud enough for him to hear her, she added, "Because I will not be responsible for my actions if someone interrupts us this time."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!


End file.
